


The Swan Song of Jung Jae Hyun

by 3sioned



Category: K-pop, NCT (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 04:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19900189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3sioned/pseuds/3sioned
Summary: You are an aged dowager widow living alone in your enormous mansion after the tragic loss of your beloved husband, but can a visit from your always-late bin man (Jae Hyun) turn your life around for the better?





	The Swan Song of Jung Jae Hyun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YC](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=YC).



It's Wednesday morning. Once again, your bins haven't been taken. For goodness sake, it's like the bin men around here just come whenever the hell they want. You think about calling the council again but you're pretty sure they've blocked your number by now. It's every damn week, the bins are supposed to be collected EVERY WEDNESDAY, and the recycling every other Wednesday. Yet here they sit on your doorstep, still overflowing with trash - Just like the council's staff list. Suddenly you see the bin lorry chugging slowly up the road in a cloud of black smoke, about to break down. A young bin man jumps out of the truck and runs towards you. He looks too young and handsome to be a bin man, you think. He must have done really shitty in school, unlike you. You went to Oxford and got your Ph.D. in Brain Surgery. "Excuse me miss," he says, "Our bin lorry broke down, is it OK if I use your phone to call the AA?" You reluctantly agree. You still think he's a filthy little street urchin and a waste of space. He comes inside your house and says, "Wow it's very fancy in here miss!" It is very fancy - because you're very rich from your brain surgery job. "Is your husband around?" he asks.

"Alas," you reply, "I am sadly widowed. My husband died from a brain disease that even I couldn't cure. Curse these wretched hands!"

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." He looks a little uncomfortable. People always do when you talk about your late husband. "My name is Jae Hyun by the way, what's your name?"

"My name is Y/N," you reply, "Jae Hyun, you really stink like stale trash. It's absolutely ruining the perfect Feng Shui of my foyer. Would you like to take a shower?" "Ok miss!" he replies enthusiastically. You lead him up your extravagant winding staircase into the bathroom, which has a sofa in it - because you're rich. You provide him with your finest cashmere towelette. "Try not to touch the walls or floors," you tell him sternly.

* * *

You retire to the drawing-room, where you look at the portrait of your husband you had commissioned before he died and gently weep. There are no good men in the world anymore, chivalry is dead, and the only visitors you have are stinky little refuse collectors. If only your husband had given you a child, you think bitterly, then maybe you wouldn't be so constantly consumed by this maddening loneliness. You had tried and tried to conceive, but he knew as well as you did that you were barren. You'd stood too close to the x-ray machine when you were scanning all the brains and it fried the womb right out of your body.

You sit a while longer - lost in thoughts of your tragic past - until you realize that Jae Hyun has been in the shower for a long time. Probably stealing. Classic poor people. You sincerely hope that your walls and floor remain unbesmirched, the maid won't come here anymore. Not since the incident. You decide to go check on him, your long silken gown billowing behind you as you silently slip down the long, ornate halls towards the bathroom. Suddenly, you hear a song on the air, a melody sweeter than the call of a thousand angels, as tempting as a sirens call, more beautiful than Vivaldi and more terrible than Mozart. " _I be walkin' with the cheese, that's that queso (queso, queso)-_ "

A fat tear rolls down your cheek, followed by another and another until you are weeping uncontrollably. That music. That beautiful music. You must have it, consume it, lose yourself in the angelic tones and become one with it. Before you know it, you’re running, sprinting towards the bathroom. You throw open the door to be confronted with the source of the bewitching melody – Jae Hyun. “Woah! Miss Y/N!! I’m still completely naked!!!” he yelps. You don’t care. “What was that beautiful song?!” you shout, as your eyes fall on his toned young body. Even in his prime, your husband didn’t look as good as this. He was too absorbed in his work to pay much attention to his physique. You’d never minded though, the love you’d shared had always been enough. “It’s called K-Pop miss,” Jae Hyun explains as he erotically towels down his sweet, ripe abs.

“You must put on a show for me tonight!” you exclaim, “Come, I will find you something to wear and sort out your dinner.” Jae Hyun looks a little freaked out, but you pull him from the room before he has time to protest.

* * *

In your late husband’s personal chambers, you outfit Jae Hyun in his most bespoke tuxedo. The piece was independently crafted for your husband by the finest tailor in the country and is a little baggy on Jae Hyun, but still looks absolutely handsome. How far he has come since you plucked him from the street, a lowly ragamuffin in his bin lorry. “Was this your husbands’ suit, miss?” he enquires.

“Why, yes.” You tell him, “His absolute finest, in fact, he was buried in it.” Jae Hyun’s eyes widen, and he lets out a small gasp, shuffling restlessly in the suit. “Sorry miss,” he mumbles, “but if he was buried in it, wouldn’t it still be buried?”

“Alas,” you reply, “my poor love was exhumed shortly after his funeral. Dreadful business… At least I managed to recover the suit though, I’d have hated to see it go to waste on a rotted old corpse…” Before he can ask any more questions, you take him by the hand and lead him down to the dining room. You settle him down at your fine 15-foot-long dining table, where his place has already been set. “Now you wait here,” you tell him, “Dinner will be served shortly, I must go and prepare myself for our evening.” As you leave the room you turn back to get one last look at him. He looks awkward and self-conscious, fumbling his cutlery and leaving finger smudges on his wine glasses. The poor child, you think, this is probably the first time he’s ever used crockery.

As you ready yourself for your night with Jae Hyun, you feel slightly guilty about enjoying the company of another man. A younger, more handsome man with the voice of an angel. Do his lips taste as sweet as his voice sounds? How would it feel to grasp those throbbing abs? To feel the touch of a young man once again? Would he willingly submit to the events that you have in store for him or will it take a little bit more… persuasion? The ghost of your husband resurfaces in your mind and you feel another pang of guilt. Enough, you tell yourself. Your husband would have liked Jae Hyun. He will like him.

* * *

Back in the dining room, Jae Hyun sits alone at one end of a ridiculously long dining table with about eighty knives and forks of differing shapes and sizes set out in front of him. Why do rich people need so many forks? Why on earth is he still here? Johnny and Mark are probably still waiting for him out in the lorry… He was only supposed to be calling the AA. Miss Y/N is kind to put him up like this, and he is glad that she liked his K-Pop song, but it all feels a bit weird. The dead guy's tux smells funny too, it’s super musty from being in storage for so long, but there’s something else, another underlying smell. A warm, rotten smell that every so often catches in his nose and makes him feel sick to his stomach. He tries not to think about it.

He wonders if Miss Y/N is preparing dinner or if she has staff for that kind of thing. He hasn’t seen or heard anyone else in the house. In fact, it seems eerily empty. He lifts up his plate and the table underneath is discoloured in a perfect plate-shaped circle. How long has this been here? Standing up to wander around the room he realises that all the surfaces are covered in a thick layer of dust. Wouldn’t a wealthy lady like Miss Y/N hire a cleaner? On the wall at the head of the table, there is a massive hand-painted portrait of a younger Miss Y/N and a plain-looking bespectacled man he assumes must be her husband. It must have been painted on their wedding day, Miss Y/N is wearing a beautiful flowing white dress, she has flowers braided into her hair, and her hand is gently placed over her husbands, displaying a huge diamond on her ring finger. With a chill, he realises the husband is wearing the very same tuxedo that he’s wearing now.

Nervously, he sits back down and tries to avoid looking at the painting, but his eyes keep being drawn back to the face of Miss Y/N’s husband. His features are oddly misshapen and distorted. He has a pointed chin and large forehead with a receding hairline that only accentuates the strange upside-down triangle shape of his head. His eyes are dark and uneven, the left hanging slightly lower than the right like the drooping face of a stroke victim. He has a thin boyish moustache, patchy beard and pouting lips that somehow make him look old and young at the same time. The eyes seem to follow Jae Hyun around the room, casting an accusatory glare at the young man who is about to sit down to dinner with his wife. Jae Hyun stares at his plate, takes a deep breath, and quietly starts to sing.

After what feels like hours, he sees the door slowly slide open and Miss Y/N steps into the room. When he sees her he reels back in shock, grasping at the edge of his chair. Of all the things he’d expected to see, this was not it. She is smiling widely, maniacally, her dark eyes fixed on Jae Hyun as she slowly moves across the room towards him. There are flowers in her hair and a large diamond ring on her finger that he didn’t see her wearing earlier. Her dress is greying and tattered from heavy wear. It’s now ill-fitting and torn in places, but there is still no mistaking it. It’s the same dress the younger version of herself is wearing the painting. Her wedding dress.

* * *

“How was your dinner, Jae Hyun?” You ask cordially, placing yourself down at the table opposite him. He doesn’t reply, instead just sitting there with a dumb look on his face. You understand. You picked out this dress especially. Your most beautiful and expensive piece, the dress you had married your husband in. You must look breathtakingly beautiful to a simple boy like Jae Hyun. You smile at him sweetly. “Jae Hyun?”

“Oh- Uh-“ He stutters, snapping out of his daze, “well, um, I didn’t get anything yet, Miss Y/N…” You laugh. Of course, he’d try and trick you out of a second meal - a street boy like him must be hungry. “Oh, Jae Hyun,” you smile, “perhaps we can have a second helping after the entertainment…”

“Well… About that…” he stammers, “I really should be going, Miss… I have to get back to work…” A sweet panic rises in your gut. Leave? Now? Untenable. You must hear his beautiful song one last time; you have a need and a want stronger than any you’ve experienced in your life. You remember your wedding day, your graduation from Oxford, your first successful brain surgery, all bullshit. Nothing compared to the sublime song of this bedraggled binman. How you’d wasted your life on these trivial pursuits when everything you’d ever needed was right here in front of you. “Nonsense!” you proclaim, unable to hide the anger and distress in your voice, “You will stay, Jae Hyun. I would really like to hear some more of your J-Pop.”

“I-It’s called K-Pop miss…” He explains, glancing down at his thumbs twiddling in his lap, “I guess I could stay for one song… But I really gotta get back to work…”

As you walk the halls towards the lounge, he pipes up again. “You used to be a brain surgeon, Miss Y/N? Why’d you quit?”

“A tragic tale I’m afraid,” you reply, “after the death of my husband I fell into a deep melancholy. What God would bless me with all the talent needed to save him and then take him anyway? I knew I could never work again. I had the most beautiful brain in the world at my fingertips, and I let it slip away. How could I bare to look at another?”

“O-oh…” says Jae Hyun, softly. “I’m… sorry to hear that, Miss Y/N.”

“Don’t you worry, Jae Hyun.” You tell him, “my surgery days aren’t over quite yet. As God made a mockery of me, so I shall make a mockery of Him.” Jae Hyun doesn’t reply to this; he just nods politely.

* * *

In the lounge, you recline on your chaise lounge as Jae Hyun begins to sing. He starts shakily, standing hunched in the middle of the room, gingerly mumbling his words, the tune nervous and skittish. As he carries on singing though, you see his timid veneer fall away. His confidence grows and he loses himself in his song, “ _Somebody can curse me, hu, Bless me ah-choo, Simon says be cool, don’t be such a fool-_ ” He even begins to dance. A perfectly rehearsed choreography, although you can’t help but think it would have been greatly improved by adding at least 18 other dancers.

As he sings you close your eyes and let his exquisite refrain penetrate to the blackest depths of your ill-fated soul. How you’ve waited for a man like Jae Hyun, his bright and trusting eyes, his soft skin and eternal youth, his song… A man of perfect beauty and grace, strong but tender, soulful and deep. As you sink into Jae Hyun’s song you realise that you’ve finally found him. A man worthy of your husband.

You rise and hold out a hand to him. “Come with me, Jae Hyun.”

* * *

Jae Hyun abruptly stops singing as Miss Y/N holds out her hand to him. Her sagging skin almost as grey as her tattered wedding dress. The massive diamond wedding ring shines in the dim light from the chandelier. He pauses a minute, a little confused by her sudden interruption, and then takes her hand. How can one person live alone in a house like this? Thinks Jae Hyun as she pulls him hurriedly through the long maze of hallways that make up her enormous mansion and then through a small wooden door, where a thin stone staircase leads down to a dark basement. “W-what’s down there, Miss Y/N?” he asks, hesitating at the top of the dark stairwell. “Nothing you won’t… Enjoy, Jae Hyun…” She whispers.

In the cramped space at the top of the stairs, she is uncomfortably close, and she moves closer still. Pushing into him, trapping him between her body and the wall. “Miss Y/N…” he stammers, gently trying to nudge her away from him. She is so thin, malnourished and waif-like, he’s afraid of breaking her. Despite this, she does not move away or waver, and leans in to kiss him. Her lips are ice cold and disturbingly wet and her breath tastes dead and stale. He can feel the loose bags of skin on her face gently slapping against his cheek and the weak pallid muscle of her tongue pushing against his teeth. But despite all of this, despite himself, he is slightly turned on.

“Come with me,” She repeats, nudging him towards the stairs. He doesn’t resist, following her down the tight passage into a dingy stone room illuminated by the soft orange light of an oil lamp that’s hanging on the far wall. The room itself is completely empty except for a small, unadorned bed, with a heavy-looking metal frame, a shiver of excitement runs through his body when he sees a pair of handcuffs hanging from the bedpost. There is a small metal door in the wall at the foot of the bed, it looks cleaner and more modern than the rest of the house. A perfect rectangle has been hewn from the surrounding rock and Jae Hyun can see some crumbled stone and dust on the floor in front of it. This door was fitted recently. “What’s in there?” he asks. “Oh, that?” She replies, distractedly, “Don’t you worry about that Jae Hyun. It’s just my late husband’s storage room…”

* * *

You sit on the bed with Jae Hyun and kiss him again. He’s so warm, so full of life and music and light. This time he returns the kiss more eagerly and even inelegantly grasps at your breast. You hastily tear away your husband’s tuxedo jacket and everything underneath until he is completely shirtless. He claws at you with the excitement of a young man who’s just realised that he’s about to get his dick wet. You consider that you might actually like to fuck him, just this once. How long has it been since you felt the passionate, inexperienced throes of a boy just out of puberty?

You push Jae Hyun back on the bed and reach for the handcuffs, and before he can make a move to resist you, he is restrained. He lets out a soft, sharp gasp “Oh! Miss Y/N!” he moans. You sit up on the bed and watch him there for a moment. He is panting with wild enthusiasm, his eyes glistening, fixed on yours. His toned chest and arms laid out bare for your inspection, you run a hand down his tender, perpetrating body and a bulge starts to rise below his tuxedo trousers. How easy it all was. “You’re the perfect specimen, Jae Hyun.” You mutter, “I’m so glad I found you.” And with that, you stand and walk towards your husband’s storage room. The room where your husband is stored.

* * *

“Miss Y/N?” Jae Hyun calls. She has been in the storage room for nearly ten minutes and his arousal has long since given way to confusion, which is slowly beginning to give way to fear. From the other room, he can hear the rusty clattering sound of a metal trolley being pushed across the stone floor. “Miss Y/N?!” he shouts again. No reply. He pulls at the handcuffs, trying to yank himself free to no avail. He suddenly realises he needs to pee. “Miss Y/N!” he cries, “I think I’d like to go home now! …Miss Y/N?”

The noise Miss Y/N is making suddenly stops just as the oil lamp burns out. The room is suddenly filled with a strange green light, emanating from the crack under the door of the storage room, and Jae Hyun finally hears her speak. “Soon my love,” she says, “We will be together again.” Jae Hyun feels his insides grow cold. What is she doing in there? Why did she bring him down here? He brings his feet up above his head and uses them to push at the bedframe, desperately struggling to release himself, but the sharp metal of the handcuffs digs into his wrists and pulls at his flesh. He feels a trickle of blood running down his arm.

Then suddenly, after a lifetime of silence and darkness, the door to the storage room flies open and out steps Miss Y/N, pulling a strange metal trolley with a strange glass tank on it, surrounded by old fashioned green monitors showing readings that Jae Hyun doesn’t understand. “Miss Y/N!” he pleads, “What’s going on? Can you uncuff me, please? I- I need to pee…”

“Jae Hyun…” She replies, “there’s someone I’d like you to meet…” She steps aside and now Jae Hyun can clearly see the contents of the tank. It’s a brain. A human brain all wired up to those monitors and battery packs. He stares at it in silent dread… His mouth goes dry and all his thoughts stop at once.

“This is my dear husband Edgar.” Smiles Miss Y/N. “I couldn’t save him before, you see. I couldn’t save his body. But brains… Brains are my specialty, Jae Hyun. “I knew I could save him. I knew I could do it. If only I had more time, Jae Hyun. So, I stole it. I brought his beautiful brain back here, to his home, so I could fix him. “And I did it, Jae Hyun. I fixed him. Look!” with this, she taps wildly at the indecipherable readings flashing on the green monitors.

“He’s alive Jae Hyun!! We can finally be happy together! All he needs now… Is a body…”

* * *

Two months later, Johnny and Mark sit outside Jae Hyun’s favourite café again. Johnny doesn’t know why he thinks Jae Hyun would come here, but it seems a good a place as any. It feels like everyone else has given up the search, but not Johnny. He knows his best friend is still out there, somewhere. “Johnny, have you been sleeping?” asks Mark.

“Have you?” spits Johnny, “While Jae Hyun is missing?”

“Look, Johnny.” Sighs Mark, “You heard what the police said. They reckon he just ran away, and how can you blame him? All that talent and having to work as a bin man every day…”

“He didn’t run!” Johnny replies. “He would have told me… He would have told someone…” Mark leans across the table and takes Johnny’s hand. “Look, mate… Let’s take a day off. Just for today. Come back to mine and let me cook you some dinner, yeah?”

“How can you say that!?” Johnny shouts, anger rising in his stomach. “How can you give up on him like that?!” Marks sighs again, realising that it’s no use. Johnny won’t be swayed that easily; he’ll sit in this café all day every day if it means there’s the slightest chance it might lead him to Jae Hyun. Mark stands up to leave, and as he does, he sees a familiar figure standing across the street. Wearing a tuxedo, with a weird, thin older lady on his arm. It’s Jae Hyun. “Johnny!” he exclaims, but Johnny’s already there, running towards Jae Hyun. “Jae Hyun!” Cries Johnny, throwing his arms around his long-lost friend. Jae Hyun cries out and pushes at Johnny with a look of disgust. “Unhand me! Vile street urchin!” he booms, in a voice that’s familiar yet unfamiliar. “Jae Hyun! Where have you been?!” Johnny asks.

“Shoo now! Go away!” Jae Hyun responds and turns around to walk away, his arm around the aged crone he was escorting. “Jae Hyun?” says Johnny, “What’s going on?”

“Leave me alone you impoverished pests” he replies. “I don’t know any ‘Jae Hyun’. My name is Edgar.”


End file.
